


The Once and Future King

by dalia (Dalia)



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Brothers, Character Study, Gen, I suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalia/pseuds/dalia
Summary: The life of Sir Kay and King Arthur, through the years.
Relationships: Kay & Arthur Pendragon (Arthurian)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	The Once and Future King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rujoma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rujoma/gifts).



“You can’t catch me!” Kay shouted as he raced ahead of Arthur. Despite being older and larger, he was always teasing Arthur about the given fact -- that his foster brother was smaller and weaker than he. 

“Just watch me!” Arthur gasped from behind him. Despite the proverbial uphill battle, he always strove to get just a little closer to his brother. 

“Boys! Time for dinner!” Ector, Kay’s father, called from the main hall. Tripping over their feet in excitement, the brothers turned to see who could be first to the table. 

Of course, there was washing up to be done and they couldn’t  _ both _ use the washbasin, so Kay got the first go while Arthur stood and waited for his turn at the (now somewhat gritty) washbasin. 

***

An older and wearier Arthur stood at his brother’s bedside and looked on. “Kay, you lout, why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?” 

Kay glared up at him through the hair that had fallen over his face, that he could no longer push back with his stump of a right arm. “You know I had to try, Arth, I just had to. ‘Once and future king’ and all that, I thought I’d give it a go.” 

Arthur sighed. “Yes, well, maybe you felt like you needed to, and I suppose that’s alright. But really? Just going for it all at once? Not maybe, I don’t know, waiting for backup?” 

“What do you want from me? It’s obvious I’ve made a mistake, and now you’ve come to berate me for it. Well har dee har har, look who’s laughing now, I guess for once you will be better than me at something.” Kay quieted, after the outburst that belied his underlying rage at the situation. 

Arthur just looked at him, and left the room. 

***

Two weeks later saw Arthur seated cross-legged in front of the legendary sword in the stone. Here was the place Kay had lost his hand, here was the place that Arthur still felt a pull to. It felt right, somehow, that he be close to the sword. Arthur supposed that his brother wouldn’t need his own sword now, not having a hand to wield it and all. 

Shaking off the sadness, he stood up and paused. There couldn’t be any harm in trying-- 

Arthur turned away, angry with himself. What was he thinking? Here was the sword that had destroyed his brother’s hand, and here he was wondering if he should try touching it as well. 

“Yes, Arthur, very good, why don’t you go and ruin your hand as well. But maybe the other one so that you and Kay can each have a functioning hand and be one man together,” he muttered to himself. 

Spinning angrily, he stalked down the knoll and mounted his horse to begin the journey back to the castle. 

***

His father, or the man he called his father, anyway, was sick. He  _ was _ getting older, Arthur supposed, it only made sense that he’d have his fair share of illnesses alongside the rest of them. What seemed odd, though, was the quality of this illness. It seemed more potent than the normal ones that might be experienced by someone of the status of Arthur’s foster father. 

With this in mind, Arthur once again made his way to the grassy knoll where the sword sat anchored in the stone. Adopting a seated position, he began the meditation exercises taught to every boy who was to be a knight. Tedious though they could be, they helped to clear his mind of the worries that plagued it. From the lake surrounding him, he began to feel an eerie vibration. 

Vibration was the wrong word for it. While a vibration might be tangible, this was a mental vibration - as if something was poking at his mind the way one might feel a sound through water. Then he realized, it sounded like a sound through water because it was! Straining, he could pick out a few distinct pieces, but they faded in and out like wind chimes in an inconsistent breeze. 

A woman’s voice called to him. “You will not know unless you try, Arthur.” 

Even wondering how she knew his name, Arthur stood up as if in a trance. Stepping forward, he reached out his hand to touch the rock. It called to him. Something in it called to him, and he had to answer. If he could just… yes! He had it! Arthur grabbed the hilt of the sword and pulled, and unlike any knight before him, the sword came free. 

***

Ector’s passing saddened even the hardiest of men, for he had been much beloved throughout the land. When the question of who would succeed him was raised, Sir Kay seemed to be the obvious choice. However, he seemed reticent to adopt the position. Whether it was a sign that he was growing wiser, or just that he was scared this was one thing Arthur would overtake him by force in, Kay ceded the throne to Arthur. 

Sir Arthur became King Arthur, and the leaves fell for yet another winter. 

Though the risk of a usurper remained, it was not addressed; and Arthur continued as he had been, now with the added responsibilities of kingship. 

And so King Arthur met the fair Lady Guinevere and married her sooner than some but later than others. And she helped to rule the kingdom, as Arthur amassed a great table of knights - Gawain, Galahad, Lancelot, Galehaut, and many others. All of the knights pure in their purpose and drive, save one. 

***

The one, of course, was Sir Kay. He took concern that Arthur had not fulfilled his true purpose by drawing the sword from the stone, and as he was not the rightful king he felt it his duty to protect the “once and future king” as he would have called Arthur in a mocking voice in their childhood. 

Now, older and wiser, he worried for his brother. He knew that Arthur was perfectly capable, but nonetheless the pit of anxiety that begins when you watch someone you love take the weight of the world on their shoulders had begun to weigh on Kay as well. 

His knighthood had been affected by the loss of his right hand, but he had adapted and was now as deft with a sword left-handed as he had ever been right-handed. 

It was with this mindset that he joined the knights at their battle. Sir Kay knew that, should it come time to choose between saving Arthur and saving Camelot, he was the only one who truly understood how the two were one and the same. 

***

The battle raged and Arthur fought for his life, to defend the honor of his nation. He lost sight of his brother for a moment, and in the next saw Kay on the ground. Rushing to his side, he put pressure on the deep abdominal wound that Kay had suffered. 

Kay gasped, “Arthur,” and coughed up rather a lot of blood. 

“Shhh, don’t try to talk,” Arthur urged. 

Grasping Arthur’s tunic in an iron grip, Kay pulled Arthur’s face close to his before turning to cough again. 

“Don’t forget, Arthur, you are the once and future king. Don’t let them forget it.” 

And Arthur held his brother in his hands and wept. 


End file.
